Every Training Is Different
Training on the fire escape this morning was very different. There was a strong smell of cannabis being farmed on the breeze (well it is Chatham) mixed with the scent of the flowers. It’s 5 months since Ann died and the grief is still raw with the birds circling the feeding table in the garden and sitting on the nearby branches looking down at where their food used to be. They still remember her. I can’t get down to the garden or to where they were fed so am unable to continue her legacy and I found myself apologising to … Continue reading Every Training Is Different
